This is the time of year I begin to despise weather reporters. All I want to hear when I watch the forecast is “Sunny, with a high of 69”, or something along those lines. But what I get instead is “Freezing rain and snow, high 38.” That’s when I growl and turn off the TV.
I know it’s not their fault, and it’s nothing personal, but who else can I take my frustrations out on? I’ve had enough of putting on coats and sweaters and socks – oh, the endless socks I have to wash and sort in the winter!
Shortbread 